All Kinds of Time
by Girl Who Writes
Summary: Usagi had hurt in a thousand, tiny ways. The half smile-grin that Haruka offered the clumsy blonde – Michiru had thought that was her smile. Michiru vignettes.
1. The Music

**Title:** All Kinds of Time

**Author: **Girl Who Writes

**Fandoms:** Sailor Moon

**Characters:** Michiru.

**Notes:** Written for 15 minute fic's 10th prompt, music. Part of a short little series of ficlets focusing around Michiru and Haruka; most likely with an emphasis on Michiru, but I'll see.

**Summary:** It's a little more intimate, a little less familiar – she has made it hers.

**Disclaimer:** Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just a humble fan and make no profit from this fan based venture.

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**One.**

She lifts the violin and her eyes trace the notes on the music in front of her. She is completely focused, the outside world fading away from her conscience. She has always been precise, a perfectionist – something she learnt about herself when she first started playing the violin.

Her fingers dance over the strings, and she is playing the piece from memory; it's a little more intimate, a little less familiar – she has made it hers.

This life or the next, she is the music. Like the sea, she is the music. It will be her legacy, coercing beauty from the strings of an instrument. Perhaps the finding of beauty - in music or in art – is her true talent; to create something magnificent, rather than the creation itself.

The past, the present, the future. She is the music, the sea, the beauty.

She finally puts the bow and the violin down, back in its velvet lined case, shuffling the sheets of music together and slipping them back into her book, packing things away – the book on the top shelf, the violin in it's case on the bottom shelf, the music stand back in it's corner. The curtains are drawn on the slowly sinking sun, and she leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

Michiru can hear Hotaru out in the swimming pool, and she pauses until she hears the voices of Setsuna and Haruka with her. She flicks the switch to the garden lights and slips through the darkening house, going to the cabinet in the lounge room, and flicking through plastic cases, until she finds the one she's looking for.

When the three come in from the pool, only a few rooms are lit against the twilight, and a CD spins in the background, violins and pianos twisting around each other, Michiru humming along to the music, lost in her own world.

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	2. Thinking

**Title:** All Kinds of Time.

**Chapter:** Thinking.

**Author:** Girl Who Writes.

**Fandom:** Sailor Moon.

**Genre:** Character sketch.

**Characters:** Michiru.

**Spoilers:** S series.

**Notes:** Written for lj's 15minutefic'. Part of a short little series of ficlets focusing around Michiru and Haruka; with an emphasis on Michiru. Apologies for the length of time between updates. Unfortunately, university and real life take priority over really fun stuff )

**Summary:** It's a little more intimate, a little less familiar – she has made it hers.

**Disclaimer:** Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just a humble fan and make no profit from this fan based venture.

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**Two.**

She traces her fingers across Haruka's stomach like she's following the twisted lines of a road map, her head resting on Haruka's shoulder as the other girl sleeps, a small smile on her face. Michiru long ago decided Haruka didn't smile like that enough – a peaceful, relaxed smile. Not a smirk or a grin; just a tiny quirk of the lips that signal that everything, for that moment, is simply good.

Sometimes she wonders how well she knows Haruka. And then she worries how well Haruka knows her.

There are the little things – like when she knows Haruka is getting annoyed, and a simple gesture – a brush of her fingers, a reassuring hand on her shoulder - will remind her not to lose her temper. Or the times when she is drifting away, lost in her own world, Haruka will smile down at her and remind her rejoin the real world.

She knows Haruka well; there's the faint white scar the blonde got when she first got into motor-cross; the one that runs from her wrist to her elbow from a car accident when Haruka first started racing.

The curved slash mark that runs across Haruka's stomach from the daimon battle almost three weeks ago.

"Michi?" Haruka's voice is slurred with sleep, tightening her arms around Michiru, shifting against her, not awake. Her short blonde hair brushes against Michiru's cheek as Haruka curls around her.

She knows that they're both afraid of what's to come; of finding the Talisman holders and watching three innocent people die. Three people for the good of the world seems insignificant when she thinks about it logically, but staring down at the pale face of an innocent person, holding their pure heart crystal in her hands, it's hard to justify.

She's glad Haruka's stronger than she is, she knows that.

"Michiru? You're awake?" Haruka blinks sleepily at her.

"Go back to sleep, love," she brushes her lips against Haruka's and watches as her eyes flutter closed. "I'm just thinking."

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	3. First Love

**Title:** All Kinds of Time.  
**Chapter:** First Love  
**Author:** Girl Who Writes  
**Word Count:** 595.  
**Genre:** Character sketch.  
**Characters:** Michiru.  
**Spoilers:** S and Stars.  
**Notes: **This one was impossible to finish, but the ending finally fell into place - it ended up a lot longer, so I've split the 'Love' chapters up into two. My inability to stick to even the strictest of word counts is legendary, so there's a high probability that these will start getting longer. Horrible summary, I know. I hope you enjoy it. Please review and let me know who is actually reading this.  
**Summary:** Michiru reflects on her 'firsts' with Haruka, and ponders their relationship.  
**Disclaimer:** Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just a humble fan and make no profit from this fan based venture.

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**Three.**

Their first kiss came as a surprise, to both, when it happened. In hindsight, Michiru wonders how it took them so long to get to that place, to acknowledge that there was no where to go but forward.

She feels truly ridiculous when she thinks back over the oh-so-obvious flirting, the thinly veiled innuendo and the double entendres – not just the kind best left for the bedroom, either, but the kind where true feelings are hidden under the guise of friendship and partnership.

She remembers the hot feeling as she blushed at something provocative Haruka had said; the gentle pressure of Haruka's hand on the small of her back as she was escorted to her exhibitions, to dinners and concerts.

Michiru collects their history together - there's a special place in her mind for the memories of her times with Haruka – their first kiss, their first date and… their other firsts. She remembers that Haruka was wearing a grey top and had oil stains on her pants, from working on her motorcycle, when she kissed her. Haruka's lips tasted like vanilla lip balm, the one that had gone mysteriously missing from Michiru's purse weeks before. Her fingers had laced through Haruka's and Michiru had smiled against Haruka's lips and it was like finding something she treasured but never really acknowledged being there – or not.

Their first date had been interrupted – not completely unexpected in their line of duty. Haruka had thrown her communicator-watch against a wall and chipped the brickwork; her frustration had been tangible as they stood on the roof top, watching the authorities pick up the pieces of the fight scene.

Michiru had looped her arms around Haruka's waist, pressing a kiss to Haruka's cheek. Haruka had sighed, her arms coming around Michiru. There had been a joke about superheroes never getting any time off, and Haruka kissing her for the first time as Uranus and Neptune.

She had savored that feeling, of knowing whatever identity she carried with her – Michiru Kaioh the girl, the student, the artist, the musician, Sailor Neptune, senshi of the deep sea, Haruka – Uranus – would be beside her. That thought always calmed her, always made life seem manageable.

And there was their first time together, mostly awkward but very heartfelt – a memory that makes Michiru giggle to herself when she thinks about it – the lights from the street flickering lights over Haruka's bed, the icy breeze blowing through the room, the unfamiliar but entirely enjoyable feeling of skin against skin… one night where they both made sure that duty came in second place.

There's something inherently reassuring, exciting and a little bit terrifying to look into the future and see that throughout everything, Haruka will be beside her. They'll go to university, they'll tour the world and raise Hotaru – with their best friend – and then they'll go on to protect Earth in roles that are thousands of years over due.

To instinctively know that her first love with be her only love, it makes Michiru feel closer to the girl, the princess and the soldier she was during the Silver Millennium; it was so easy to fall in love with Haruka this time around.

But then, she privately thinks that it would be easy for her to fall for Haruka Tenoh, in any world, any time, any incarnation.

It's the thought that keeps her fighting when the battles are harder won and the future seems more like a childhood dream than a real possibility – that wherever there is the sea, the sky will be there to meet it.

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	4. Sanctuary

**Title:** All Kinds of Time

**Chapter:** Sanctuary

**Author: **Girl Who Writes

**Fandoms:** Sailor Moon

**Characters:** Michiru.

**Prompt:** Dancing

**Notes:** Why does my inspiration always hit the nights I'm plied with school work:shakes head: Been loaded down with school work and writer's block, so I apologize for no replying to any reviews or messages for any of my fics. My break is coming up in a week, so I'll be able to play catch-up then.

I have another chapter of this prepared however, it's a little heavy on the angst, and I'm unsure if I should add something like that to what has become a romance series. Opinions, comments and suggestions are always welcome.

This one was inspired by repeated listenings of Disney soundtracks. You can't go wrong with songs from Beauty and the Beast. And I absolutely must acknowledge the _Timeless Dance_ chapter of Yavapai's_ Seabreeze._ I discovered everything I love about the Outer Senshi in this fic, and is such a beautiful representation of the relationship between Michiru and Haruka, and the three oldest senshi. Ahem. I could wax lyrical about my favourite fics for days, but I'll resist

I hope you all enjoy this chapter and, again, if you can think of any interesting prompt ideas for this little series, I'm always interested.

**Summary:** There was a moment of uncertainty, Haruka looking at her, with an unreadable look in her eyes before she took Michiru in her arms.

**Disclaimer:** Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just a humble fan and make no profit from this fan based venture.

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She always enjoyed dancing, even as a child. She still has fond memories of being a little girl in a frilly party dress, her father chuckling as he showed her the dance steps, her mother watching from the sidelines, smiling tolerantly – along with her father's colleagues. When Michiru looks back, she wonders how much of those nights was her father dancing with her to please her, or to offer a desirable family portrait to his co-workers. 

And then she decides she doesn't really care what it was; it was a happy family memory, and that was enough.

Haruka wasn't quite so fond of dancing in the beginning. She had heard a half muttered story about ballroom dancing lessons in Haruka's youth, and the mental picture of a younger Haruka in a dance class was enough to send her into giggling behind her hand. She can just picture some poor boy as Haruka's partner, perhaps letting his hand slide a little too far, and Haruka's less than lady-like temper flaring.

Haruka had refused to tell her any more about the lessons, but when the time came, Haruka was more than a capable dancer – especially as a lead, for which an explanation was never offered.

Their first dance hadn't been in any of the romantic scenarios Usagi and Minako had once dreamt up over milkshakes, before they realized that Michiru and Haruka were present. It had been in the Tokyo apartment, some furniture pushed aside, a tape in the player and still wearing their school uniforms. They had been invited to some charity ball, slightly out of their league, but Michiru had been determined to preserve whatever opinions Tokyo society held of the pair of them - an impromptu dance lesson had been required.

They had trained together – Michiru bore some impressive bruises as a testament to that fact – but Haruka had obviously felt slightly awkward with Michiru in her arms, which had made Michiru ill at ease, both stumbling over their feet, eyes averted, complete silence, except for the muttered apologies when they stepped onto each other's feet.

As she had dressed, Michiru had resigned herself to the fact they would either embarrass themselves as the school girls they were or just not make it to the dance floor, a thought which made her sad.

Later, she would wonder what it was – the admiring gazes of other gentlemen sweeping over her, the music that hummed just behind the conversation, or maybe how she looked in her dress – that prompted Haruka to escort her onto the dance floor almost as soon as they stepped into the ballroom. There was a moment of uncertainty, Haruka looking at her, with an unreadable look in her eyes before she took Michiru in her arms.

It had been perfect – maybe once, in their past lives, they had danced together because it had felt very natural - Haruka's hand resting on her waist, the gentle rustle of her skirt against her legs, Haruka's lips twisted up in a small smile as they moved across the dance floor.

She knows she had stars in her eyes for the rest of the night, but it might have been because Haruka's arm had been around her the entire night, keeping any other admirers far away from Michiru. It had been especially nice to be the only girl that Haruka looked at, even just for a night.

It's like a second nature now, Haruka's arms around her when they dance, her head tilted slightly back because she's still not quite tall enough in her heels - a brush of lips, small, private smiles, the flutter of eyelashes against a cheek.

It's another one of those things they do so well together; a legacy from another life, an expression of everything they are to each other - and something that prompted more than just friendship, shy attraction.

Carved out in the reassuring circle of Haruka's arms and gentle music, this is - and will always be - Michiru's sanctuary.

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	5. GreenEyed

**Title:** Green-Eyed

**Author:** Girl Who Writes

**Fandom:** Sailor Moon.

**Genre:** Character sketch.

**Characters:** Michiru.

**Spoilers:** S series.

**Word Count:** 465

**Notes:** I've procrastinated about posting this forever, but finally I decided to bite the bullet; this is very much set at the very beginning of the S series, when Michiru and Haruka's romantic relationship was new. I hope you enjoy it!

**Summary:** Michiru didn't deal in hope – she dealt in action.

**Disclaimer:** Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just a humble fan and make no profit from this fan based venture.

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She liked to think that she was above petty jealousy; she was the mature, calm and collected Michiru Kaioh, after all. It was expected of her.

However, when it came to Haruka, she didn't feel mature, calm or collected. She felt all the emotions she tried so hard to conceal, bubble just under the surface. She wasn't just Haruka's lover – which, alone, implied so many things – but her best friend, her partner in crime, her confidante and, as Haruka had once joked, her parole officer.

It was easy to know that Haruka wouldn't leave her and she knew that she could never walk away from the charismatic racer, but to watch Haruka with other girls – the easy and mischievous grin, that look in Haruka's eyes; Michiru herself had fallen victim to Haruka Tenoh long before Haruka looked her way, and she was lucky that Haruka appeared to have fallen equally as hard. But that made it hurt just that little bit more when Haruka's eyes wandered a little too far.

Michiru would be the first to admit she loved the princess; Usagi herself was kind hearted to the point of extra-ordinariness, and one look at her had Michiru convinced she would make a kind, compassionate queen – with a little maturity.

But Usagi had hurt in a thousand, tiny ways. The half smile-grin that Haruka offered the clumsy blonde – Michiru had thought that was _her_ smile; the protective air Haruka carried whenever the girl was around. It was the first time that it occurred to Michiru that maybe, just maybe, she loved Haruka more than Haruka loved her.

Destiny had made them partners in the past, and now she was paying the price, watching Haruka unable to resist the sheer joie de vivre that was Usagi Tsukino - the odango-blonde practically sweated love and acceptance for all. Michiru felt faded and tired when faced with such hope, such acceptance and affection for everyone and everything.

Hope was for little children staring at a pile of birthday or Christmas presents. Hope was waiting for someone to solve a mystery, an illness, a crime. Michiru didn't deal in hope – she dealt in action. She had been Sailor Neptune, alone, for almost a year before she had found Haruka.

But there was a spot in her heart that was cold to the blue eyed girl; the part that saw Haruka's soft eyed glances and heard the affection in her voice. Michiru had to steel herself against that little hurt, her scoldings playful and only a little bit sad.

It helped a little, thought, when Haruka holds her tight – almost clinging – and makes her promise that she'll never leave.

Michiru never replied to Haruka's pleas with anything other than a kiss; her own petty revenge for a million tiny hurts.

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